Writing the Chappy column is an exercise in recollection — what the heck happened this week? And the exercise continues as one then tries to then make interesting those recollections. Fortunately for me, embellishment is a strong suit and I rarely let facts dictate the retelling of my stories. A seagull on wing becomes an eagle overhead with the Lindbergh baby in its talons. Chappy, in and of itself, holds plenty of interest but its esoteric and ethereal beauty are better suited to poetry than prose. Stay tuned for the Chappy column in verse.

Anyway, they (paving people) repaved the first couple hundred feet of the Chappy Point, so you can now cruise in exquisite quiet the last and first 20 seconds of your trip to and from the ferry. Seemed like they had the misfortune of choosing the hottest day thus far of the calendar year to finish the job, but all involved were (if not delightful) very pleasant and composed. I often think of these folk when I become frustrated in my work — if they can keep their cool, then surely I can muddle through my chores without wishing a plague upon humanity (not a full blown biblical one, just a few crickets in the bedroom). I had time to think of all this while waiting in the ferry line, whose pace was tempered by the addition of tar trucks traveling to and fro. I had chosen my air conditioner-less VW bus for this trip, so there was a choice between an open window breeze and the smell of tar, or the stifling heat of a closed system noticeably free of macadam musk. I chose the open window. There was a bit of excitement in the air (perhaps similar to the atmosphere surrounding Ben Franklin’s keyed kite) because we were staged on the opposite side of the road, as they paved the ferry line. I don’t care how old or young you are, when there is a collective change in routine, you’ll always feel that small buzz of adventure. Drivers were pacing a bit outside their cars, silently nodding at one another their complicit part in this crazy experiment. We are on the other side of the road. I know, nuts!

During this wait I found myself growing sleepy. More accurately, more sleepy — I am never not sleepy at all. And something about the heat and the bus reminded me of my first job on a golf course. This took place on a municipal course in Tampa. After much negotiation, I secured $2.65 an hour (more than I presently earn) to tend to the greens in the morning and groom the grounds thereafter. My job ran daily from 5 a.m. to 2 p.m., but rarely did I need more than four hours to complete all my chores, so I took to napping in a secluded spot by the swamp where they dumped the grass clippings. Only after weeks of doing this did I think to ask about the odd grunting sounds I would hear in my semi-slumber. “Oh, those are bull gators. Looking for love.” I’d never heard a bull gator, but decided I didn’t want to find out if I was its type of fella. Henceforth, I sacrificed my beauty rest and restocked the soda machines and washed Big Bill’s car. Shortly after I retired from this job, I discovered through the local paper the greener pastures of a landscaping job. I worked at this job, driving 20 miles out to the hinterlands everyday, before I figured that I was essentially part of a prison crew. The orange van that arrived daily to pick up my co-workers seemed to me to simply be a convenient, colorful, and courteous taxi. Oh Florida.

Slip Away Farm held its very successful pig roast a few days (weeks? years? time gets blended these spring days) ago. Preceding the food fest was the inaugural Crow ‘n Pig tournament at the esteemed Chappy Links. I mention this partly because it was a really good time for good people, but mostly to mention just how awesome I am for organizing and hosting it. There’s no sweeter congratulations than self congratulation (and often times the only!) Special thanks to Vintage Wine and Spirits, The Boneyard, The Wharf Restaurant, Espresso Love, and the Port Hunter (extra generous with five gift cards!) who all contributed prizes to the event. And, of course, to Peter Wells who contributed over $400 worth of ferry tickets to the cause. The fact that I had no trouble at all gathering participants is a testament to the good will that the Slip Away folks have accumulated through their hard work.

Finally, I need to mention that my mom has been visiting this week (because she told me to). Great fun was had by all, especially baby E — lots of bosom snuggling (especially by baby E).

Send Chappy news to ibwsgolf@aol.com.